Sunday, March 26, 2017

Welcome to my blog! This month, I'm showcasing lots of retellings of Beauty and the Beast, one of my favorite fairy tales. Today we have a dark fantasy version, Given to the Beast by Adam Charles.

Michael has never been afraid of any challenge. When the tyrannical
beast that rules his land demands a mate—a strong, virile man—Michael
volunteers. He does so to save his village from the creature’s wrath and
prevent the beast from following through with his threat and coming in
the night to steal a mate. He goes to the castle certain he knows
exactly what he’s in store for, but what he actually finds changes his
life forever.

Michael stepped
out of the tub and watched the rivulets of water flowing down his body and
wetting the ground. He dried himself carefully. The strong sage soap he’d
washed in smelled too strong for his own taste, but it was traditional. Beyond
the high fence, he could hear people whispering. Small groups had been
gathering near his home all day. What were they all thinking? He had
volunteered, of course, but he imagined everyone had a different idea as to
why.

Turning his gaze
toward the castle, he sighed. He knew many probably thought he was heartbroken
over his wife’s death, but they had never been in love. It had saddened him to
lose the woman who had been his companion for two years, but Daria had only
been a friend. She’d been in love with another man, one who had abandoned her.
She and Michael had only lain together a dozen or so times. They had cared for
each other, but never truly loved each other.

Michael began to
dress in the leather breeches and tunic he’d been instructed to put on. He
would go to the castle with nothing else. All would be provided there, he’d
been told. It had only been a week since the last girl had come back. Two
months ago, the tyrannical beast that ruled their land had demanded a mate.
He’d sent every single girl away, but this time, the girl had come back to her
people with a message.

The beast didn’t
want another timid maiden. He wanted a strong, muscular male.

Everyone had been
shocked and insisted the girl’s brain was addled. She’d produced a handwritten
note, which had been put on display in the square. Michael had ruminated for
two days before going to the village elders and volunteering. Then they’d all
thought he was the one who was addled. But by the end of the night, they’d
agreed, finally understanding that no one else would go willingly. The creature
that dwelled in the shadows of the castle would come down at sunset and steal a
mate for himself if one was not given to him today. The last time they’d defied
the beast, there had been bloodshed. Michael had been too young to understand
what had happened, and no one liked talking about it. The creature had also
once used his sorcery to block out the sun for three days. Michael had always
respected the beast’s power but never feared him.

Michael thought
about the beast as he straightened his tunic, which had no laces in front and
fit him snugly to show off his chest and abs. He ran his hand down his body and
wondered how it would feel to be touched by a clawed hand. The mysterious beast
that had ruled over them since before Michael’s birth was taller and more broad
shouldered than Michael. He never wore anything more than boots and leather
breeches. His body was covered in short black fur, yet he was muscular just
like ordinary humans. The strength of those muscles could be seen any time he
exerted himself. His face was like a lion’s, his yellow eyes piercing and his
hair a dark, wild mane. His rounded, cat-like ears swiveled to take in sound,
and people often stayed quiet when he was near, out of fear. He was like
something out of a fairy story, as if a man had killed a beast and then clothed
himself in the pelt. He had fangs and could roar when provoked. The sound was
not as loud or bold as a true beast’s, but it scared everyone nonetheless.
One-inch claws tipped his fingers. Some of the girls had come back with faint
scratches on their bodies.

“Michael?”

Michael turned to
see Joshua, one of the elders, looking at him. “It’s time?”

Joshua nodded.
“Yes, the carriage is ready.”

Michael felt the
people watching him, and even as they whispered their concerns, he knew they
were all relieved.

They set off, and
Joshua gazed out the window as they wound up the hill to the castle. “It’s a
brave thing you’re doing.”

“We can’t fight
the beast. It might kill again if we don’t do what it asks. It’s better that I
go willingly than that some youth is dragged from his bed tonight. Or a father
taken from his family.”

“Yes, it is
better.” He sighed and then added, “It harmed none of the girls at least.”

“But it frightened
them all half to death. I don’t frighten so easily.”

“You might when
that thing tries to mount you.”

Michael took a
deep breath and pushed it out slowly. “I’ve lain with men before. I won’t
break.”

Joshua finally
made eye contact. “If you say so.” He pointed to the castle. “There’ll be no
escape. Those gates will close, and you won’t get out again unless the thing
opens them for you.”

“I know that.”

Joshua shifted and
lowered his voice. “Do you mean to kill it?”

Michael shook his
head. “Do you go into the dark cave and lose yourself in its twists and turns
to kill the bear?”

Joshua gave a
shrug. “Perhaps while it sleeps.”

“And then our
kingdom would be vulnerable. The conquering hordes only stay away for fear of
the beast’s enchantments and strength.”

The carriage
stopped, and Joshua stiffened a moment before getting out and holding the door
open. The horses grew restless and tried to back up, and the driver had to jump
down to hold them steady. Michael descended and looked at the castle gates.

“Go on, lad, and
may the gods have mercy on you.”

“The gods allowed
this creature to exist. I’m not sure I want their mercy.” He straightened his
back. “I won’t be harmed, Joshua. Perhaps he’ll let me out on a leash when he
comes to the village next time.”

“Don’t joke.”

Michael laughed
without humor. “Who’s joking? I’ll not have my liberty if he likes me.” The
gates opened as the driver got into position again.

Joshua scrambled
back into the carriage, and the driver turned the horses around and took off.
Michael gazed back at them a moment before entering the garden. A kind of
orderly chaos greeted him. Flowers and bushes and vines of every kind wound
together in great masses, multi-colored blossoms all around him. He followed
the winding path to the castle door and waited. There was no knocker of any
kind, only the blood-red wood before him. The beast had to know he was here,
since the gates had opened and closed for him.

Michael heard
footsteps on the stones behind him, and a large shadow fell over him as the
door opened. Michael held his head up high and waited, staring into the castle
instead of turning to look at the beast.

“Turn around so
that I might have a look at you,” the beast said.

The deep voice
boomed directly behind Michael, and he turned slowly. The beast was over a foot
taller than him and a good bit wider as well, far more imposing than Michael
had remembered. Heat poured off the creature, and Michael watched his muscular
chest rise and fall.

A rumble came from
the beast’s chest. “At least they listened this time. What is your name?”

“Michael.” He
looked up into the beast’s eyes. “Am I permitted to know yours?”

Those yellow eyes
looked amused, and the beast licked his lips, his fangs showing. “If I tell you
my name, you can never leave.”

“Do you think to
send me back? If I don’t please you?” Michael clasped his hands behind his back
to keep his restless hands still.

The beast pressed
closer. “You please me. And I will please you, if you let me.”

“I’m here to save
my village and my people. I came here to stay, so you might as well tell me.”

“My name is
Kyros.”

Michael shifted
his stance as he turned the name over in his mind. “Is that what I’m allowed to
call you?”

Kyros nodded. “How
did they persuade you? Are you always so brave?”

“I volunteered.”

Kyros stood
perfectly still, and then a smile curved his lips. “You came willingly to be my
mate? To writhe beneath me as I sate my lust within your body?”

Michael lowered
his eyes. “I didn’t think of it that way, but yes.” He lifted his gaze. “I know
I’m here to be fucked.”

Kyros gestured to
the door. “Then come in. You’ll need a bath.”

“I bathed before I
came.”

“Yes, in that
horrid sage concoction the villagers believe wards off evil.” The doors closed
behind them, the candles in the hallway lighting as they walked. “I’ve had to
wash every one of you. Do they not understand how keen my sense of smell is?”

“You could’ve told
them not to.”

“No matter. It
will give me a chance to touch you before dinner.”

Michael’s steps
faltered a bit. “Touch me?”

A laugh rumbled
from the beast. “Yes. I shall bathe you myself.” He leaned close. “You shall
get to examine me as well. See what you’re in for.”

“You will only
touch me?” Michael asked, very aware of how near Kyros was.

“Are you so
eager?”

Michael flicked
his glance up. “Merely curious.”

“You look at least
thirty. You’re no virgin.”

“No. I’ve lain
with four women and two men. One was my wife.”

“Your wife?”

“Daria. She passed
away.”

“Did you leave a
lover to come to me?” Kyros opened the door to a huge bathing chamber of blue
and white marble. “I’m very jealous, you see. I must know.”

“No. Daria has not
been dead a year yet. I have no lover.”

Kyros smiled
again, his eyes raking up and down Michael. “From this night on you will.” He
waved his hand, and steaming water poured from several mounted, silver lion’s
heads. A sunken tub lined with blue marble took up half the room. It filled
quickly, and Kyros fixed his gaze on Michael.

“Undress. Let me
see you.”

Michael obeyed,
feeling warm under the scrutiny. He made himself keep his hands at his sides
when he was done. Kyros approached and walked around him, not touching yet.

“You look strong.
You must work outside.”

“I was a
woodcutter. I also worked the farms when I was needed.”

One clawed hand
slid gently down his back and then cupped his ass. The claws weren’t sharp, but
they were hard, and Michael knew they could cause pain if Kyros wanted to do
so.

“Get in the
water,” Kyros said, giving Michael a little pat on the ass.

Friday, March 24, 2017

Welcome to my blog! This month, I'm showcasing lots of retellings of Beauty and the Beast, one of my favorite fairy tales. Today's offering takes the premise of "Beauty and the Beast" in another direction, but there is still a mysterious beast, a magic mirror, an enchanted mansion, and a curious captive. Read on to find out more about Foxfire by Yuki Edo.

Hiro didn’t think anything could amaze him more than his brother’s
revelation that their family’s prosperity comes from the favor of the
kami Inari. Yet Hiro soon learns that Inari’s kitsune, fox spirits who
act as messengers, watch over his family in exchange for yearly
tribute—and this year, Hiro has been requested as an offering by one of
the mysterious fox spirits. Hiro’s brother takes him to a strange
mansion one night, and Hiro is left at the mercy of Masaki Kitamura, who
has yet to reveal what he has planned for his young visitor…

Masaki gazed into
the mirror and watched Hiro talking with his brother.

“Why on earth
would he want such a thing?”

Masaki wished he
could pass through the mirror and answer Hiro’s question himself. Akira
presented the situation as a purely professional relationship, but Masaki had
told Akira the truth. He’d come to trust the current head of the family, and
Masaki could see he’d been right to do so. Akira had been surprised to hear Masaki
confess his feelings for Hiro, but he had also been pleased. Akira believed
Hiro was “closeted” and in denial about his desire for the company of other
men. Very delicately, Akira had told Masaki about some sketches he’d found
once. Masaki knew all about them. He’d even watched Hiro draw many of them,
watched the young man touch himself afterwards.

Masaki refocused
away from those thoughts. He wasn’t ashamed of his voyeurism—he spied on humans
all the time for Inari—but he wanted to see how Hiro would take these
revelations. Akira and Hiro continued to talk. Hiro didn’t become angry, but he
refused to believe any of the supernatural parts of the story Akira presented
to him. Akira showed patience, and before long Hiro said he would consent to
the business arrangement with no hesitation if Akira would tell him the truth.
Akira sighed, but he didn’t back down. Hiro gazed at the floor a long time, and
more than anything, Masaki wanted to touch him, to push his hair away from his
face and caress his cheek.

“Fine. I’ll do
it, but only for a month or so. My lease is up in a few days. We’ll go then,
but I’ll need time to look for a new place. What kind of hours will I have to
work? I have a couple of projects to tie up before I begin anything new.”

Masaki’s heart pounded
so loudly he didn’t hear what Akira said in reply. Hiro was coming. It didn’t
matter that the young man didn’t believe yet. He would soon enough.

Thursday, March 23, 2017

Welcome to my blog! This month, I'm showcasing lots of retellings of Beauty and the Beast, one of my favorite fairy tales. Today we have a dark, contemporary retelling, Bargain with the Beast by April Andrews.

When Tobias Thorn sees a hooded figure abducting a young girl, he
doesn’t think twice before racing to the girl’s rescue. Only he isn’t
quite quick enough...because the next thing Tobias knows he’s waking up
in a cavernous room, his hands and wrists bound to an equally cavernous
bed, with his chances of escape looking pretty damn slim.

But
Tobias is not a man to take things lying down. He’s going to find his
way back home no matter what it takes! But then he meets his abductor
and realizes things aren’t quite that simple. Tobias has entered a world
unlike anything he has ever known before. If he wants his freedom,
there is only one way he is going to get it, by making a bargain with
the Beast...

Excerpt:
“You’ve abducted me,” Tobias said, his tongue suddenly feeling too big
for his mouth. “Chained me to the bed. You’re not letting me leave. Why
on Earth would I be attracted to you?”

The Beast smiled, and as he did so Tobias couldn’t help but notice the
way his yellow eyes seemed to glow. “Because you’re responding to my
desires,” he said. “The fact that I want you? You feel it and you’re
responding to it.”

His words were so close to what Tobias had thought as they walked the
tunnels of this underground town that he shivered. If he didn’t know
better, he’d start to think the Beast was a mind reader or something.
From the beginning—and it was just a few hours ago—it was like this man
knew exactly how Tobias was going to act, how he was going to respond,
even what he was going to say. It was too much. Too intense on top of
everything that had already happened. Tobias held up his hands. “Stop,”
he said. “Just stop.”

The Beast sighed, and then to Tobias’ absolute horror, and intense,
unwelcome delight, he took the edges of his tee-shirt…and in one smooth
move he pulled it over his head.

Tobias could do nothing but gape at him. Shock fizzling through every
cell of his being. The Beast was muscled in all the right places, worse,
he was dusted in a light sprinkling of tawny hair, and Tobias had
always been a sucker for hairy men. The urge to step forward, to run his
hands over those muscles, made Tobias gasp again. He could imagine
catching his fingers in the curls…tugging on them…

He swallowed hard. His hands itched, his heart raced, and his cock
thickened in an instant. The reaction was so swift, so visceral, that
Tobias didn’t know what to think of it. He could only take a deep
shuddery breath.

“There is no stopping,” the Beast said, his eyes fixed hard on Tobias.
“Not now. Not after you ran. Perhaps if you had done as I asked I would
have been able to control myself for longer.” He shrugged. “But you’ve
awoken it now, Tobias. I can’t stop it.”

“I—”

“Feel it, Tobias,” the Beast added. “It is pulsing between us. There is only one way to sate it.”

“It?” Tobias asked. “It?”

The Beast smiled. “Desire,” he said. “It’s been there from the very
beginning. It has always been just a matter of time until I had you.”

He is not for you…

Those words spoken to Gregovitch, the words spoken now, they brought a
million different images to Tobias’ mind, and it was ridiculous but he
actually felt weak-kneed. He knew exactly what the Beast was talking
about, and he shuddered at the thought of doing those things, not
because he didn’t want to, but because he did, so badly…in that moment
Tobias realized why he had taken so long to run, why he had let his
curiosity override his fear.

He wanted to be fucked by the Beast.

But he didn’t want to want it.

“I just want to go home,” he whispered.

The Beast lowered his hands until they were on the top of his jeans.
Tobias gulped at the intent of that movement. “Only I have the power to
grant that,” he said.

“Because you rule here,” Tobias breathed.

“Precisely.”

“Then grant it,” Tobias said. “Please.”

The Beast shook his head, and then slowly, like he wanted Tobias to see
every movement, he popped the button of his jeans. “That is not how it
works,” he said. “Here if you want something you have to give
something.”

And so Tobias asked, though he feared he already knew the answer to his question. “What do you want?”

“And we’re going to do that, Tobias,” the Beast whispered. “There is no choice anymore. Not if you want what only I can give.”

Tobias snapped his eyes open. “To go home.”

“Precisely.”

“So if I do this…”

The Beast removed his hands from his zipper and crossed his arms. “Then I may grant your request.”

“May?”

“If you are as beautiful as I suspect,” the Beast said. “If it is as
good as I have been imagining it will be.” He paused, and then he
smiled, that same smile that had made Tobias shudder in the very
beginning. “If you please me then yes, Tobias Thorn, I will allow you to
go home.”

Monday, March 20, 2017

Welcome to my blog! This month, I'm showcasing lots of retellings of Beauty and the Beast, one of my favorite fairy tales. Today I'm featuring another fantasy version, Under His Beast by Victoria Vallo.

Matthew arrives in the land of the prosperous Faeles—a
feline-like race—as an indentured servant, thinking he'll be doing nothing but
working for the next two years. But the handsome males all react to him in a
way no one ever did back home. He once thought he'd never have a chance to
explore the desires he's always had, but it soon becomes clear that he's going
to be more than spoiled for choice among the exotic Faeles...

Garren’s gaze
raked over him. “A pleasure. How long will you be with us?”

“Two years.”

Garren smiled. “So
I’ll be seeing you often. I live in the house across the pond behind Petyr’s.
We share some fields, alternating crops each year.”

“I volunteered to
send him to Geraint, so he’ll be there for a month or two.”

“Ah, you should
find that exciting. Our sorcerer is … interesting.”

Petyr shook his
head and laughed. “You’re trying to scare him because you think he’s cute and
want to keep him around.”

Garren shrugged.
“Can’t blame me for trying.” He smiled at Matthew. “If either of them work you
too hard, I’ll give you sanctuary.”

“I’m sure I’ll be
fine,” Matthew said, knowing his face was red.

Garren moved off
when someone called his name, and he and Petyr went back to loading bags. Once
they were headed back to Petyr’s, Matthew finally found the courage to ask, “Do
you really think he found me attractive?”

“Garren?” Petyr
glanced at him oddly and gave him a slow smile. “Your clerics weren’t very
thorough, were they?”

“What do you
mean?”

“Humans are as
exotic to us as we are to you. But I’m sure you probably never gave that any
thought. Faeles males tend to like that humans are smaller and more fragile.
Brings out the machismo, you could say.”

“So, lots of males
might find me appealing?”

“Yes, but you can
turn them down despite your status here. If anyone tries to tell you otherwise,
come to me.” He looked at Matthew seriously. “Especially since it would be your
first time, I take it?”

Matthew nodded.
“Yeah. I’m just surprised. Girls back home were far more impressed by my
brothers.”

“Because you’re
short and not muscular?”

“Yes.”

“You’d be smaller
than most of us even if you were a foot taller and solidly built. Don’t dwell
on it.”

Matthew wondered
how it would be if he did meet someone special. His family would be
disappointed, but they just might understand, in time, if he wanted to stay
here as a mate. He could find work and send money home if he did that. One of
his brothers had already suggested he take work after the two years were over
if the Faeles offered him anything.

“Ask me anything
you like. Geraint is wiser than any of us, but he’s hard to pin down
sometimes.”

Matthew wanted to
ask if Petyr found him attractive, but he didn’t want to seem forward or appear
to be fishing for a compliment. “I don’t mean to sound so down on myself. It’s
just that you’re all so beautiful.”

Petyr smiled. “All
of us?”

Matthew swallowed.
“Yes.”

“Then you may have
many options if you wish to gain more experience.”

Matthew blushed
again. “I think the pheromones are starting to get to me.”

“Probably. I’m
seeing my lover tonight, so I’m a bit … on edge. He’s been away for a month.”

“You have a lover
but don’t live with him?”

Petyr shook his
head. “We typically don’t live together until we select a true mate.” He parked
the cart and jumped to the ground, coming around to help Matthew down. “Not to
reinforce our reputation as wicked decadents, but if you wish, you could spend
the evening with us. My lover’s name is Erik, and he’s a very gentle male. We
could do anything you wished.”

Matthew thought he
might faint, though he wasn’t sure if it was fright or excitement making his
heart race. He swallowed. “I think that would be leaping without looking, as
they say. I just got here, and I am a bit overwhelmed.”

“That’s fine,”
Petyr said as he threw a bag of grain over his shoulder. “But I wished to make
the offer. I think you were afraid to ask, but yes, I find you attractive as
well.”

Matthew took up
one of the bags as well and followed Petyr through a door that led to the
pantry off the kitchen. “Everyone speaks of such things openly here. At home,
it’s so different. So many topics are forbidden.”

They went back
outside, and Matthew took up a crate of apples. “I make a pretty good apple
pie, if you like them.”

Petyr smiled “I
do. Thank you.” He grabbed another bag of grain and fell into step with
Matthew. “We see no reason not to speak of such things. We try to be
understanding of human ways.” He set the bag in the corner and straightened.
“But to be honest, you seem curious. I saw you on the ship watching everyone.”

Matthew put the
apples on the table where Petyr pointed. “I am. As you said, I’m certainly old
enough to have lovers.”

“I was very curious
when I was young. Wild, even. I look forward to having a mate one day, just not
quite yet.”

“How do you know
when you’ve found a good mate?”

They brought in
the rest of the bags of grain as Petyr explained. “It’s part instinct and part
physical chemistry. Sometimes, a lover’s scent strikes you differently. Or it
could be something unconscious. My mother knew she wanted my father as her mate
when another female’s scent made her jealous.”

Matthew followed
him back outside. “So you can tell if someone you’re standing close to has been
with another?”

“Yes. By the time
I take you to Geraint, you’ll smell like me a bit. He’ll likely make you bathe
first thing. As I said, he’s traditional. Old-fashioned. While you’re attending
him, he won’t want to smell another, male or female.” He unhitched the horses
while Matthew swept the cart out.

“So I’d need to
bathe after coming for supplies and things? Or interacting with others?”

“Yes, but he’ll
explain everything when you get there. He’s thorough. And efficient. That can
make he seem kind of gruff and curt, but don’t let it get to you. He’s a softy
deep down, just rough around the edges.”

“Sounds like
you’re setting me up with your cousin or something.”

Petyr laughed.
“You won’t have to worry about that much. Geraint is more interested in study
than in sex. He gave up on romance after a relationship went bad years ago.
It’ll give you some time to get used to things here.”

Matthew helped him
lead the horses into the barn. “He’s not interested in finding a mate?”

“Doesn’t seem to
be,” Petyr said. Then with a grin, he added, “So my offer still stands. Erik
has his own home, but he’ll likely be staying here most nights.”

“I’ll think on it,
though it may be best for me to take the time to get used to things here.” He
took up a brush and stroked it over the horse, soothing her and picking leaves
from her mane. “Do many humans take lovers right away?”

“Yes, though I
hear they often deny it when they go back home.”

“They must. I’ve
certainly never heard anyone talk about it openly. When I got here, I was
intimidated.” He lowered his eyes, knowing he still was. “I was shocked to hear
you say the males here would find me appealing.”

“The females will
as well. They like the gentleness of humans. Get tired of the strutting and
posturing.” He chuckled. “We’re a testosterone-ridden race.”

“You’re open and
warm, too, though. I like it. Everyone in the market was friendly.”

“Yes, and many a
male eyed you. I had to give them a glare that said you were with me.”

Matthew paused in
his brushing. “Sounds like I’ll not be going home with my virtue intact.” He
smiled to let Petyr know he wouldn’t mind.

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Welcome to my blog! This month, I'm showcasing lots of retellings of Beauty and the Beast, one of my favorite fairy tales. Today we have a retelling set in my fantasy world of Valladora: Owen and the Beast.

Seeking to ease his loneliness, Owen sets out to meet his last remaining
relative, someone he never knew because of an old family scandal. He’s
trying to find his way in life, his path uncertain and his heart having
been broken more than once.

Suffering under a demonic curse that
can never be lifted, Edmund hides away in Erimooor Lodge so he doesn’t
have to deal with the pity and fear his appearance inspires. Though many
in the nearby village accept him as he is, he knows not everyone will
have that ability to tolerate his animal-like appearance.

Owen
makes his living as a storyteller, enthralling others with fantastical
tales. Little does he know that the gods have something amazing planned
for him when he meets the real “Beast of Erimoor Lodge” and finds out
how wrong all the old legends are.

Owen hoisted
himself up onto the boulder and pulled his boot off, crying out at the
unexpectedly sharp pain. He stared down at his rapidly swelling ankle. Cursing,
he fumbled for his bag, which had gone flying when he’d caught his foot in a
rut in the road and been thrown forward. He’d actually done more damage pulling
his foot out of the rut, and that pissed him off. He looked down the road and
tried to guess how far away he was from his aunt’s village. He thought it had
to be at least five or six more miles, but he didn’t really know. There was
supposed to be an inn coming up soon, but he didn’t know its exact location
either. What he did know, however, was that he didn’t see anyone coming from
either direction on the road.

He barely managed
to drag his bag over without falling off the boulder. He dug around in the
deep, overstuffed bag, hoping to find something to wrap his ankle with, perhaps
even brace it. Even though he’d known he didn’t have anything, he still felt
dejected when he cinched up the drawstring and dropped his bag back to the
ground. Dirt flew up, making him cough, and he looked up to the sky. It had
been so dry lately he’d been praying for rain, but now he hoped it held off
since he might get stuck in it. Fluffy clouds floated to his left, but the
clouds to his right were darker. He looked around to find some shelter, but he
couldn’t see any. Only open fields lined this part of the highway.

Owen sighed and
wiggled his ankle, cringing at the pain. He could always rip the hem off one of
his shirts to bind it, but walking any distance would only make things worse.
His aunt would know just what to do, but she was miles away. Should he keep it
still or move it? Should he elevate it? Questions raced through his mind as he
heard hooves beating in the distance. He jerked his head up and began waving
frantically as soon as the horse became visible over the ridge.

A man about his
age rode up on an enormous black stallion. He made the horse stop and jumped
down right away. The enormous animal seemed formidable, but it stood calmly and
looked on as its master rushed over to Owen. The man actually appeared much
younger up close, a huge grin on his face as he pushed his messy brown hair out
of his eyes.

“Hi! You look like
you need some help!” the man said, still grinning.

Owen had never
seen anyone express concern so happily. He shifted on the boulder and said,
“Yeah. I sprained my ankle, and I’m still miles from my destination.”

“Where are you
heading?” he asked.

“The next village.
The small one by the mountains in Lady Christobel’s dominion. My aunt lives
there.”

“Oh. That’s many
miles away still. You’d never have made it by dark even if you hadn’t hurt
yourself. There is a little inn about four miles up, but my home is much
closer. I live in the lodge just over this next hill, off in the woods.”

“I’d appreciate
it, but I don’t want to impose.” He straightened. “I’m Owen.”

“Well, it used to
be.” Lane bent down and looked at Owen’s ankle. “Hmmm. I need to see to this,
but I don’t have anything for a splint. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know
on the way.”

“Thanks. I really
appreciate it. I was worried about getting stuck out here in the rain,” Owen
said as Lane picked up Owen’s bag and hefted it over this shoulder. Glancing to
the stallion, Owen sighed. “I know I can’t walk, but I’m not sure I can get up
on him. He’s enormous.” Lane was also half Owen’s size, so he wasn’t sure how
much help the man would be in getting him up onto the horse. “Maybe if I can
stand on one foot and put all my weight on you, I can make it.”

“Oh, don’t worry.
We can get you up there.” Lane made a clicking sound with his tongue, and the
stallion came right over to them. Speaking to the horse as if it understood
every word, Lane said, “This is Owen. We’re going to take him home with us. He
needs our help.” Then he pointed at the ground.

To Owen’s shock,
the horse actually lay down and then turned to look at the two men. Lane held
his hand out.

Lane moved to the
other side of the stallion and reached his hand over. Owen grasped his hand and
threw his injured leg over, pulling himself into position to sit properly in
the saddle. Once Owen was situated, Lane smiled at him and clicked at the horse
again. Lane held to the horse’s reins and urged him up slowly. The powerful
animal got to its feet easily, and Lane walked around to fetch Owen’s other
boot.

As they began
their journey, Owen asked, “Your master won’t mind an unexpected visitor? I can
pay, of course.”

“Nonsense. You’ll
be our guest. It’s just me and Lord Edmund day in and day out.” Lane grinned
once more. “I’m so excited! I already know exactly what to make for dinner. And
I just aired some of the ground floor rooms, so we can move you right in to one
of those.”

The title gave
Owen pause, as did Lane’s excitement. “Your master’s a vampire?”

“Yes, but he
doesn’t like to be addressed by his title. I slip up now and then, and he
forgives me. He’s very gracious. Kind and gentle. Would not harm a fly. The
best of masters. Good and generous and understanding.” Lane smiled as he kicked
at a few pebbles on the road. “I’ve never been happier in my life.”

Owen wondered why
Lane was trying so hard to convince him this Edmund was a good man. “You think
a lot of your master.”

“Well, once my
ankle is bound, I won’t trouble you too much. If I can just rest and then maybe
borrow a horse. I promise to bring it back as soon as I can. Or you can
accompany me if you like.”

Lane waved his
hand. “Nonsense. You should stay until you’re healed. We’d love to have you.”

“I couldn’t impose
like that. It will take days. And even if your master is gracious, you haven’t
exactly asked his permission.” Worried he might sound condescending, Owen
quickly said, “I mean, you know him best, of course, but I hate to put him out
in his own home.”
“It’s nothing!
Please, I insist. It’s time we had a bit of life and activity about the place.”Owen watched Lane for a long time, wondering how
things could be lacking in life and activity with Lane and his enthusiasm to
contend with.

Friday, March 17, 2017

Welcome to my blog! This month, I'm showcasing lots of retellings of
Beauty and the Beast, one of my favorite fairy tales. Today we have a historical retelling, Brute by Georgia Fox.

When Lady Isabella is granted a husband she knows there can be no
refusing. This is the queen's will, and no one refuses the queen. But
the husband she is given turns out to be not just any courtier
handpicked by the cruel, tyrannical Queen Ingaret.

He is
"Brutus", a wild man recently captured from his isolated tropical
island. A naked, long-haired, enormous savage, who knows only a handful
of words - all learned from a bunch of lusty sailors and none suitable
for the ears of a lady. A brute with a manhood that has made him a prize
exhibit in the queen's menagerie of rare animals.

Isabella must
find some way to tame the beast who is now her husband, but she must
also keep the perverted, spiteful queen entertained, for this is not
just her future safety at stake. It is his life.

Can this mismatched couple find a way to bond in bed and out of it? Can they live happily forever - and ever after?

He was ravenous. The taste of her pussy— not puzzy, she had taught him—
was sweeter than wine and went to his head in just the same way. She
liked it when he licked her there, so he discovered, and she encouraged
him to keep doing it.

When she let her hands slide up and down his body, and across his
shoulders, he found he liked that too. It was soothing, made him feel
warm in a way he never had before. Warm on the inside. It was a gesture
that seemed admiring, for when he was walked out in the yard and there
was a bazaar taking place, he had witnessed other women touch cloth like
this, running their hands over it and sighing.

And as she explored him with her small, light, gentle hands, he did the
same to her body, wishing his hands were as smooth as hers. The dip in
her waist was deep when she lay on her side, her hip a high slope that
trembled when he licked the curve with his tongue. Her teats were almost
too much for his hands to hold and he sucked on them with delight. When
he pulled her close and felt her soft belly against the hard ridges of
his muscle it brought him such intense pleasure that he let his head
fall back and a low rumble came out of his throat— more of a purr than
the howl he expected.

His bride caressed the groin-snake with her hands and then her mouth,
tasting timidly at first and then growing bolder. Her little tongue
tickled his balls and travelled all the way from sturdy root to the
fleshy knob that ached and swelled.

Brutus had never had so much good attention focused upon him and he
wanted it to go on forever, so he held back his urge to rut and let it
build at a slower pace while she played with his body and petted him
with tenderness.
* * * *

When he turned onto his back, Isabella slowly stretched her body over
his and licked his eyebrows, then his eyelids. He made a questioning
grunt and she laughed lightly. Suddenly she felt immensely powerful. The
queen had, no doubt, expected her to feel helpless and dominated by the
wild man in bed, but he was not an ogre, or any sort of monster. He was
a man. And she would teach him, lead the way through her own
deflowering.

From this position she would have more leverage, be able to make the pace suit her better than she would if he lay above.

He ran a hand down her spine, tracing the curve with his long fingers,
making her shiver, and then he cupped her bottom in both hands and
lifted her.

Poised straddling his cock, Isabella muttered a hasty prayer and then she pressed downward.

Brutus groaned, staring at the sight of his erect manhood slowly
penetrating her body. Still gripping her buttocks, his fingers trembled
and dug into her flesh.

Every so often she paused, readjusting her position. She leaned forward.

"Kiss me, Brutus."

"Kizz?"

Her heart quaked to think he had never known a kiss. So she tenderly
laid her lips to his, tasting the wine and roast peacock from their
wedding feast. Inside her pussy, his cock throbbed, causing an echoing
flutter to rush through her, radiating from that one tightly filled
place. She gasped, jolting, for it made her skin tingle as if lightning
had struck.

He pressed his hand to the back of her head, holding her head still,
keeping her lips against his. And then, as she was sinking into that
kiss, he flipped her over onto her back.

Thursday, March 16, 2017

Welcome to my blog! This month, I'm showcasing lots of retellings of Beauty and the Beast, one of my favorite fairy tales. We'll start with one of my own, In the Wolf's Tower.

****

This story practically
wrote itself, which was a bit of an adventure in the first place. I got
the idea when my godson Quentin wanted some help understanding Sir
Thomas Mallory's Le Morte d'Arthur. In the list of the knights of the
round table, we stumbled upon this passage, which I thought would be a
great jumping off point for a story:

Sir Marrok, the good knight that was betrayed with his wife, for she made him seven year a werewolf . . . Book XIXIn
Mallory's tale, he is only stuck in wolf form for seven years, and when
he is freed he gets revenge on his unfaithful wife. Now, despite this
little bump in the road, he still has a place of honor at the round
table and is part of the honor guard, but the king in my story is not
quite so noble as King Arthur.This
story is a twist on Beauty and the Beast, but as you'll see as you
read, our beast Marrok didn't do anything to deserve his punishment,
which makes him want revenge even more. Of course, Josette is not what
he expected at all, so his plans for revenge begin to falter and stray
the moment she arrives......

Blurb:

Josette’s father needs gold to fight his war, so she goes
from princess to prisoner in an instant when Lord Marrok offers the needed
treasure in exchange for her. Once her father’s most honorable knight, Marrok
is now shunned and feared. Why? Marrok is a werewolf. Josette goes to help her people,
and soon discovers that Marrok blames her father for his curse. He claims he
wasn’t looking for a bride, but his gaze screams seduction and she soon
questions his reasons for demanding her in exchange for the gold. What sort of
revenge does he have planned? And what will happen to her once he has her
locked away in his castle?

Josette entered
the kitchen and found Marrok finishing his dinner. “I thought you would want me
to do that.”

“Did you? Can you
cook?”

She nodded.

“Rare talent for a
princess.”

“Not for a bored
and sheltered one. I was under the impression I was going to be slaving away in
this castle in one way or another.”

He pushed his
plate away and stood. “So you imagined yourself chained either to the stove or
to my bed, did you?” he asked as he moved toward her.

“My father was
vague. He said I owed it to him but that I should expect the worst. When I said
I would go willingly, he actually choked on his wine. He seemed pleased though
and dismissed me to pack without another word.”

He stood only an
inch away from her now. “And given the choice, which would you prefer?”

She looked up into
his eyes and tried to ignore the masculine scent of leather. She turned her
head and eyed the stove before stepping back and eyeing him as well. His gaze
never wavered from her face. “It’s a very nice stove.”

He roared with
laughter. “You must be a changeling. You have more wit and personality in one
strand of your hair than your parents had put together.”

“I’m my own
person. No one and nothing will ever change that.” She went to the table and
gathered his dishes. She walked them to the sink and began looking around at
the well-equipped kitchen.

“Not even your
present situation?”

She let her breath
out in a huff. “Are you determined to have me unhappy? What does it matter? My
father will never know! For all he knows I’m locked in the dungeon or on my
hands and knees scrubbing the floor in rags.”

He let his gaze
shift down her body. “I’d stay in the castle more often if you get the urge to
spend much time in that position.”

She turned away so
he wouldn’t see the flame of color on her cheeks. She told herself she was very
lucky he hadn’t forced himself on her. She shouldn’t be having such sexually
charged thoughts. A man like him would surely pick up on them and tease her all
the more. Or worse, tempt her to act on them.

“I really can
cook. I’ll cook every meal if you like. It’s the least I can do for the expense
I’ll be to you.”

“Money is of no
concern. You’ll learn that soon enough.” He moved to stand behind her, but he
didn’t force her to turn around. The heat from his body made her blush even
worse, and something about having him so close behind her sent a thrill up her spine.
“I eat at eight, one and six. I’ll unlock your door shortly after sunrise every
day.”

He walked toward
the door, but then he turned. “And leave food out for the cat starting
tomorrow. He prefers chicken twice a day. I kill one for him every morning.”

Despite the flush
still on her cheeks, she turned to him. “Cat? You’re a werewolf, but you own a
cat?”

“Why is that so
very odd?” he asked, though he didn’t stay to hear her answer.